Nightly call
by Maria86
Summary: One night that will change things between two agents. Emily Prentiss is involved in a car accident and calls Hotch - by mistake. Mentions of rape. H/P pairing. Do not own Criminal Minds.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note : I do not own Criminal Minds. Please excuse any mistake, English is not my mother tongue.

Her fingers typed nervously over her cell phone. She didn't really have a choice, yet she was dreading to make the call. After all, it was the middle of the night, and she would probably wake up not only JJ, but also Will and maybe Henry. But, as she looked at the end of the road, she thought once again that walking down to the next town, on her own, was certainly not the best idea, even though she was an FBI agent. Currently, she was an FBI agent with two cocktails in herself and no gun. The brunette finally pressed the green button to make the call, and waited for a groggy and sleepy JJ to answer, shivering as the cold wind blew stronger around her shoulders.

"Hotchner" echoed through her ear, and Emily's heart stopped. God, what had she done… Pressed the wrong button.

"I'm… so sorry, Hotch. I meant to call JJ." Her voice must have seemed slightly panicked. Waking her boss at two thirty was not the best move. "I'll… I'll let you go back to sleep. Sorry for the disturbance."

"Prentiss?" A sleepy voice answered. She hoped she had not woken Jack or she was a dead woman.

"Yeah, it's me. Again, I'm so sorry to have called you by accident. I'll just… Go back to sleep."

"What is it?" He didn't seem to have listened to her long apology. "Are you okay?"

Emily paused, pondering whether she should just boldly lie or tell the truth and bear the consequences.

"Yes, no problem." It came out much easier than she thought.

"Then why are you trying to call JJ at… almost three in the morning?"

What could she tell? Emily just kept silent, hoping he would let go and stop the conversation before he was fully awake and she fully embarrassed.

"Emily?" The use of her first name surprised her.

"Yeah, I'm there. And I'm good, really." She tried to laugh light-heartedly but failed miserably.

There was now silence on the other end of the line.

"You don't sound okay. Where are you?"

"I… Okay," The brunette gave up, "I wanted to call JJ to ask for a ride. I kind of crashed my car…" He didn't even let her finish.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm good. I'm just… in the middle of nowhere, and I don't really want to walk home."

Again, silence. Rustling in the background led Emily to think that Hotch was getting dressed.

"I'll come pick you up."

"But… what about Jack?"

"He's at his aunt Jessica, you're lucky. Do you know where you are exactly?"

Emily looked around.

"Not really…"

"Okay, don't move and let your phone on. I'll call you when I'm on the way." With that, Emily was again surrounded by silence. She wiped away a tear and looked at herself. What would Hotch think when he would see her like this? She looked like a whore, for sure. This thought brought up more tears that she wiped away again.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Where are you going?" His angry voice echoed in her head as she ran across the parking lot. It seemed to her that she had never run this fast. Or maybe once before, as she was after Ian Doyle. Now someone was after _her_._

_Emily Prentiss finally reached her car and jumped into the driver's seat. Her hand was trembling as she turned on the motor. He had not followed. She could see his shadow in the doorway, as he watched her drive away. _

_Tears were pooling in her eyes, and she desperately tried to wipe them away, as they made it difficult to drive. She tried to focus on the road, unsure about where she was headed. Home seemed lonely and cold to her right now. A friend's home? She couldn't really think of anyone whom she could confide into after this disastrous evening._

_Emily's heart stopped as she took another turn with the car and struggled to keep it on the road. She couldn't bring herself to drive slower. She had to get as much distance as possible between _him_ and herself. Suddenly the left side of the car started rolling on something soft, and she realized she wasn't fully on the road anymore. The brunette saw the tree in her headlights just seconds before the shock._

"Prentiss?" Hotch's voice was clearly worried as he stepped out of his car. The woman was sitting on the side of the road, a few meters from her own car, which did not look good. One side was jammed from the tree it had collided with, and smoke was still coming from the motor although almost an hour had past by since she had called him for help. Emily Prentiss herself looked like hell.

"Thanks a lot for coming." She responded as though everything was normal, and stood up as the dark-haired agent approached.

"Are you okay? I didn't think it would be this bad…" He motioned to the car.

"Yeah… I was driving too fast to be honest, but I'm okay. How did you find me?"

Hotch hesitated, his eyes still lingering on the jammed car, and on the woman standing in front of him, shivering from the cold – or the shock, he wasn't quite sure.

"I… asked the technical team to trace your cell. It's good the Bureau's open 24/7." He answered absently. "Here." Hotch quickly removed his jacket and wrapped it around his colleague's shoulders.

Emily had stepped closer to his car, so that Hotch could now see her clearly in his headlights. Her jaw was bruised, and there was dried blood on her lip. Why was she not wearing a coat in this cold November night? And where was she headed to be dressed up so elegantly? As Hotch's eyes travelled southwards, he noticed that the beautiful black dress was torn in several places, which increased his worry.

"Are you hurt?" His hand went protectively to her shoulder as he readjusted the jacket. She looked at him strangely.

"No… No. That's not the car accident." She stopped abruptly, realizing that she had given away too much information, and turned away. Before Hotch could say anything else, she cleared her throat and said:

"Can we go now? I'm awfully tired."

"What about your car?"

"I'll call the garage tomorrow morning. The motor's down anyway, I couldn't move it."

"Okay…" Hotch looked one last time at the once beautiful vehicle, then turned to Emily.

"Okay, let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks a lot for your reviews ! Chapter 3 is up.

_"What are you doing?" Emily's voice had a strange edge as she asked this question for the third time. The first two questions hadn't met an answer, and panic was slowly starting to show on the brunette's face. _He _had both hands on her, one holding her arm, the other one trying to lift her dress, as his lips repeatedly attacked her neck. She didn't feel comfortable. At all._

_Had she somehow started it? Had she involuntarily given him a sign that she wanted to go further? Had she been so provocative that he just thought it was okay to corner her the minute they were out the bar?_

_Emily shut her eyes tightly, trying to gather her thoughts and find a way to get out of the situation. _

Emily's eyes fluttered open as she felt someone shake her gently. Hotch was leaning over her and looking at her quizzically. Emily's eyes wandered around until she realized that they were still in his car, and Hotch was repeatedly asking if she was okay.

"Did I fall asleep?" was her first question, as she rubbed her eyes and watched Hotch drop back into his seat.

"You were out so quickly, I thought you had passed out." He said, frowning. "Maybe I should have taken you to the hospital. Did you hit your head?"

"No, it's just a few cuts…" Hotch turned the keys and the headlights turned off. It was only then that Emily realized that they were parked in front of a house, not her building.

"Why are we at your home?" She opened her mouth again to start arguing, but he cut her short by putting a hand on her wrist.

"Listen… I don't know what exactly happened tonight, I hope you'll tell me later on…" She made big eyes at this comment but he remained still and calm. "But you don't look okay. You might have a concussion… So, it's either my house or the next hospital, your choice."

When she did not respond, he continued with a more gentle tone : "I am not letting you alone tonight."

Hotch waited for the brunette to reply harshly, and was a little taken aback as she just stared at him without saying anything. Were there tears forming in her eyes?

"You'll sleep here and tomorrow we'll call the garage to pick up your car."

With this final word, he left the car and waited patiently for her at the doorway, until she had made up her mind and followed silently. When they got in, she noticed that the lights hadn't even been turned off – he had left in a hurry, which made her heart sink. She must have seemed really desperate over the phone. As Emily walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, Hotch once again detailed her with a worried gaze. Another bruise was now showing on her wrist, and the one on her jaw looked yet darker than before. Had she put up a fight?

"Thank you, Hotch." She said, looking him in the eye. Visibly she hadn't looked forward to getting to her lonely home.

"I told you once I'd be there if you had a bad day… I guess that includes car crashing." He said with a smirk. "Do you want something to drink?"

Emily looked away, rubbing her sore wrist.

"No, thanks. I kept you awake long enough." Hotch nodded.

"You can sleep in my bed. I'll go into Jack's room."

Emily couldn't help laughing at this answer. "I doubt you'll fit into the bed of a ten years old…"

Hotch smiled. "He has a big bed now. He more or less harassed me a few weeks back to get rid of his child bed…"

Emily pursed her lips, refraining another laughter. She could very well imagine this little boy attached to his father's leg, begging him.

"I'll be right back." Emily watched Hotch jog up the stairs, then looked around her. She had been in this house only once before. Hotch had bought it about a year back, because Jack was growing and needed more space than the tiny apartment they had lived in until then. Now they had a garden, the boy had a big room and Hotch often could spend his week-ends playing soccer with his son or teaching him how to drive a bike in the nearby park, as he often told the team. They had a good life, even if a woman was definitely missing in the picture. Of course, Hotch knew how to run a household, as Emily could see as she looked at the coffee table, the dining area, the book shelf. Everything was tidy, except for some toys on the coffee table.

The brunette turned her head when she heard footsteps. Hotch had a box in his hand, which he put on the coffee table and opened to reveal bandages and several medication.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking at the bandages and bottle of alcohol.

"You should clean that up." He answered, motioning towards her face. Emily raised a hand to her lip, touching the swollen skin. She had completely forgotten about that.

"Oh." Hotch held his breath. She looked so lost suddenly, as she touched her injury and winced.

"Tell me if it hurts." She didn't say anything as he applied the cotton. She tried to read his eyes as he gently wiped the blood away. She tried to find anger in his gaze, or exasperation. After all, she had woken up her boss in the middle of the night, forced him to drive across town, and now he was missing the last possible hours of sleep, caring for her injuries. And despite all that, she was lying to him.

"Emily, what really happened tonight?" Hotch's voice was tense. They were sitting so close that it was almost unbearable for Emily. Now she had a choice: plunge into his arms and cry herself to sleep. Or keep a brave face and not burden him with her problems any more.

"Can we talk tomorrow?" He looked at her strangely, then sighed and nodded. He knew how stubborn Emily Prentiss could be – almost as stubborn as himself – and he didn't want to push her. Panic was starting to rise within him : he had rarely seen her so fragile. Pictures flashed through his mind : Emily limping out of Cyrus' house, Emily with a wooden piece sticking out of her abdomen after Doyle stabbed her, Emily with her nose bleeding and tears streaming down her face when they finally found the killer of her friend Matthew… She had gone through a lot – they had all gone through a lot these past years. And yet, he had seen this woman crumble only a couple of times. And each time he had to witness that, it broke his heart. They were family.

"Come, I'll show you the way." He simply said, pushing these thoughts away. Now he just had to be _there_ for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again for your reviews - here is finally the conversation ! Not quite sure where to go from here, any ideas ?

Hotch turned for the fifth time in the last hour. He hadn't closed his eyes since he had gone to bed which was about… two hours and twenty minutes ago. He sighed as his gaze fell upon the little decorated alarm clock (which Jack had insisted on buying along with his big bed). It was almost half past five but still dark outside. He had begun to hear rustling in the next room half an hour ago. Before that, it had been awfully quiet a long time, so quiet that Hotch had been tempted to go and check on his guest. He knew in his heart that Emily was not sleeping, although she made big efforts not to make any noise. Now she had apparently given up on sleep altogether, thought Hotch as he pushed away his bed covers. He could hear footsteps in the corridor, followed by some more rustling in the bathroom. Maybe there was a problem, suddenly thought Hotch as he walked down the corridor.

"Emily?"

The woman dropped something at the sound of his voice. She looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Are you okay?" A thousand thoughts collided in Hotch's mind. Maybe her injuries were worse than he had thought. Maybe he made a mistake not driving her to the hospital.

"Hotch! You scared me to death…" She answered with a tired voice, stretching down to pick up the bottle she had dropped. "I didn't mean to snoop…"

"Please, Emily, you're no stranger here," he brushed her justification away. "I just thought… Do you need anything? Are you not feeling well?"

Emily paused, watching the bottles of medication she had still in hand. "Actually I was looking for some aspirin…"

"Here." Hotch made a step into the bathroom and picked the right box. "You're sure you didn't hit your head?" The thought of a concussion came back with full force. He saw the moment he asked that his never-ending worrying got on Emily's nerves.

"I just have a headache, Hotch. I didn't hit my head, I swear." She finished with a tired smile. Sometimes Hotch was just too nurturing.

They stayed in silence for a moment before Hotch snapped out of his daydreaming. The situation was not really appropriate. He was standing in the doorway in his pajama pants and an old T-shirt. And Emily was leaning against the sink, looking at her feet, wearing the jogging trousers and T-shirt Hotch had lent her for the night. Tonight was a strange night indeed. Hotch cleared his throat and took two steps back, giving his friend some privacy.

"I'll go make some coffee, when you're ready…"

He didn't comment on the fact that it was 5.43 AM – a little early for coffee – and neither did she.

When Emily arrived in the kitchen, a big mug of black coffee was awaiting her on the counter and Hotch was rummaging around nervously.

"Thank you…" She said as she leant against the counter. Hotch turned around and looked a little longer than necessary at the brunette. She had changed back into her own clothes, an elegant black dress and high heeled shoes, which looked odd given the time of the day and the fact that she was in her boss' kitchen. Emily was perfectly conscious of the fact that her bruises had become darker during the night and were now fully showing on her knees, forearms and face. Hotch stopped breathing as he realized that Emily was looking him in the eye. How long had he been staring?

"I'm sorry…" he said to break this tense moment. "… I don't have much in the kitchen these days, since Jack isn't home."

"What, you send a ten years old to do grocery shopping?" she said sarcastically, taking a seat across from the counter.

"Ha ha." Hotch continued to look through his empty cupboards. "It's just that I don't really eat breakfast at home when I'm on my own…"

"I know how you feel, I too love the combination coffee-doughnut on the way to work."

It felt good to have a normal conversation, and to hear her normal, light-hearted voice, thought Hotch as he gave up on looking for anything eatable and poured himself a cup of coffee. He wasn't sure he could eat a bite anyway.

He took a seat across from the brunette and observed during a long moment how she was stirring her coffee.

"Have you slept any?" he asked, trying to read her eyes as she looked at him.

"Not better than you… I heard you move around all night."

"_Touché_."

Emily smiled. She knew she had to talk to him. When the sun would rise, she would have to call the garage, get ready for work, and finally go to the Bureau… and face her colleagues, who would undoubtedly question her bruises and marks.

"So, do you want to tell me what happened yesterday?" The man finally asked after another long silence, looking at his mug to avoid her burning gaze.

"Not really, but I guess I don't have the choice." She shrugged in return.

"You have, Emily. I just thought… that you could tell me anything." He raised his head as he said that and looked her in the eye, to show her that he really meant it. He knew that he didn't have the monopoly of her confidences. She was sometimes much closer to Rossi, Morgan and, of course, the girls of the group. But he always liked to think that they shared a special bond. That she could be true and natural around him.

"I want to tell you", she said, putting extra weight on the first part of the sentence. "I just don't want you to think less of me… Sometimes I'm just really stupid." Emily shook her head and continued stirring her coffee to give herself some sort of contenance.

"I don't get you." Hotch raised an eyebrow.

"I was on a date, okay? I was just going out with some random guy, and it got out of hand! It's as simple as that." Emily realized that she had spoken out a little too aggressively, but Hotch didn't comment. He just looked at her, brows furrowed, waiting for her to continue.

"Did he…"

Emily's heart stopped.

"No! No… He tried. I… kicked him in the groin before it went this far." She distinctly heard as Hotch exhaled the breath he had been holding. And suddenly, tears started to pool in her eyes. Looking at this caring man, and having to admit that she was such an easy lay was just too much to bear.

"Emily, look at me." She was interrupted in her thoughts by Hotch's hand, which came to rest on her forearm. "It's not your fault."

She couldn't help but laugh sarcastically, much to Hotch's surprise. This was such a cliché, this sentence that all victims could hear. Yet she didn't feel like a victim. She didn't want to be.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just don't count anymore how many times I've heard this…" she answered, wiping away a tear.

"I know, I'm sorry. You still need to hear it, even if it seems the obvious thing to say. You should be proud for defending yourself so well."

"You would expect more from a trained FBI agent…" Emily took a sip of her coffee. Hotch sighed.

"Even though we are dealing with perverts, rapists and murderers all week long, you are never prepared to meet one in your private life." Hotch said patiently. "Fortunately we all still believe that there are good human natures out there…"

Again Emily grinned sarcastically. "I'm not quite sure anymore."

Hotch pursed his lips. He knew where it was going. He knew that from now on, everything would bring them back to Ian Doyle and to what he had done to Emily's mind.


	5. Chapter 5

"Did Jack have nightmares again?"

Hotch looked up with big eyes to witness David Rossi waltz into his office.

"What… ?"

"You look tired. Did Jack keep you awake?" Rossi exaggerated his pronunciation so as to get the message across, simultaneously making himself comfortable in the chief's couch.

"Don't you have some paperwork to do?" was the only answer he got from Hotch, who patiently turned back to his own files and continued scribbling. He didn't want to discuss last night's events with his friend, not when Emily had not yet had the chance to explain herself to the team. Yet David Rossi was not one you could send away without an explanation.

"Yeah… You could say that." He decided to go along with the offered alibi.

"Oh." Rossi stood up after a moment of silence. "I see in your eye that there may be another person involved… Is she cute?"

Hotch sighed and definitely put down his pen when Rossi sat down uncomfortably on the edge of Hotch's desk. He wouldn't get away with it.

"What do you want, David?"

"I'm just curious."

"Well I guess you'll have your answer soon enough." Hotch got up and went to the window bay showing on the bullpen. Most of the team members were not there yet. He had only seen Reid as he had come in, frenetically playing with his Rubbi cube. Hotch hadn't said anything about that leisurely attitude: the stack of files under which the young doctor was buried proved that he had not played around all morning.

"What do you mean?" Rossi frowned. He knew Hotch didn't sleep much at night anyway. Five hours max, three when they were on duty, and the man still found time here and there to run before coming in to work… God, Rossi shook his head, for Hotch to have blue bags under his eyes meant that either he had spent a VERY good time, or there was a VERY big problem.

"Are you afraid she will not call you back?" He continued despite the look on his friend's face. At this point, only humor could get Rossi to the bottom of things.

"I am not up to your jokes this morning. As you noticed, I didn't get much sleep last night…" Hotch was looking intently onto the bullpen, at the coming and going of agents. "It's Emily."

The name slipped easily off his tongue. Rossi, who had kept silent for the past two minutes – which was long for the elderly agent – now had a dry mouth. Whenever Aaron would call her by her first name, and not "Prentiss", it meant that something was very wrong.

"What's with her?"

Hotch turned around to face his friend. He knew he could talk to him. Some time between five and six, he had asked Emily what she planned on telling the team, and she had chosen to go for the truth. Never this bunch of profilers would believe that Emily's injuries had come from a car accident, and Hotch was not very good at playing the surprised one. So she had agreed to tell them about the assault, and the fact that Hotch knew.

"She was assaulted last night."

Rossi immediately stood up and balled his fists.

"What? By whom? Is she alright? How do you know?"

Hotch raised a hand. "May I explain or are you going to ramble like that for fifteen more minutes?"

Rossi flashed a sarcastic grin. "Yeah, you'd better explain. After dropping a bomb like this."

"She had a date yesterday, and the man was apparently all but gentlemanly. He tried to rape her, from what I could gather."

Rossi brushed a hand over his face. It wasn't often that one of their colleagues went from investigator to victim. They were used to drama in the line of duty, but not when it hit so close to home.

"What's the name of this prick?"

"She didn't want to say. You know Emily, she doesn't want us to intervene and beat the man to a bloody pulp." Hotch gritted his teeth as he said that. His only desire at that moment was to practice his boxing skills on the face of the man.

"Do you mean she's not going to file a claim either?" Now Rossi was pacing back and forth between the couch and the desk, making Hotch dizzy. He knew that the elderly agent had always had a lot of tenderness for Emily Prentiss. He could get through to her, he could make her laugh. They had been out to share a good Bourbon more than once, and often played chess together on the jet. They were close indeed, in a father and daughter way although Rossi liked to play seductive once in a while.

"Do you know how hard I worked just to make her admit what happened?" Hotch sniffled. It wasn't that easy to get Emily to talk. You had to take baby steps.

Rossi stopped pacing and looked at his friend with suspicion.

"You didn't answer the other question: how did you know?"

"She called me. After running away from the bastard, she took her car and had an accident."

Rossi nodded. Things were sounding worse and worse.

"Did you bring her to the hospital?"

"She didn't want to."

"Oh, Emily…" Rossi swore under his breath. He knew how stubborn the brunette could be. Even on the field, it took several paramedics and agents to get her on a stretcher. Hotch nodded in agreement.

"And what's bugging you?" David Rossi was good with asking questions out of the blue. Hotch snapped out of his thinking to shed him a curious glance.

"This time I'm the one not following."

"Of course, I want as much as you to beat the crap out of this guy, and to drag Emily to the next emergency service for a complete check-up. But from what you say, she's fine now. She defended herself, and I guess she's even coming in today…" He took Hotch's silence for a confirmation. "But I see there is something else on your mind. Why are you so serious?"

"Is all _this_ not enough, David?"

Rossi eyed him curiously, trying to read his mind.

"You don't believe her? You think it was worse than she told you?"

Rossi was good. Of course, Hotch had questioned her sincerity. Emily was so secretive that you always had to make sure she was not minimizing things. But not this time.

"Of course I believe her! She was really in no shape to lie to me."

"Then are you just exhausted? You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."

The two men were interrupted by a smiling JJ, as she knocked gently and peered into the office.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked.

"Not at all." Hotch answered in his normal voice – he wasn't so bad at compartmentalizing. "Good morning, JJ. Is everyone here?"

"Emily's missing but she sent a text saying she was in the parking lot, and she would be here in five."

Rossi shared a worried gaze with Hotch.

"Alright. Then we're ready for briefing. We are coming."

Hotch immediately followed JJ through the door, but Rossi was on his tail.

"Saved by the bell, my friend." He said, imitating a French accent. "But I'll be back… Once I've gotten Emily to file in a claim _and_ divulgate the name of this prick so that we can pay him a little visit."

Hotch couldn't help smiling at that comment.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks to all for your reviews and ideas... I think I now know where to go with that story. And I'm already looking forward to the next. __**If you'd like to prompt me, if you have an idea in mind that you want me to elaborate on, PM or review, and I'll choose from your propositions for the next story !**_

"What the hell…" JJ rose from her chair as she spotted Emily walking through the glass doors. It was no optical illusion, the woman was bruised all over the face and had a split lip. The blonde walked through the bullpen, trying not to attract too much attention – luckily the men of the group had already made their way to the conference room.

"You got very lucky last night." Emily said, trying to smile despite the pain at the corner of her lip. JJ just kept staring at her, mouth gaping.

"More than you, I can see." She finally answered, resting a hand on her forehead. "What happened to you?"

"Don't we have a briefing waiting?" Emily said casually, putting her bag down on her desk and taking off her coat. Maybe she could win some time.

"The guys can wait. You're not getting up there before you've told me everything."

"Waouh, _everything_… I doubt they will be that patient." Emily stopped rummaging through her bag and looked at her friend. "Let's just say_ it_ didn't go good."

"Your date?" JJ's eyes travelled briefly to the conference room, to see whether Hotch was already impatient and checking on them. "Did this guy you were supposed to go out with hit you?"

"As you see. But it's okay, I hit in return." Again, Emily tried to smile, in vain. It looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"I can imagine that. Still, you look… Does it hurt?"

"Nothing that an Advil can't solve." Emily patted her friend's arm to reassure her. "Can we go up now?"

JJ stared at her a little longer, then nodded. As they were half up the stairs, she stopped abruptly.

"You know, Em, you need to stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Going out with strangers."

"Thanks, Mom."

JJ flashed a sarcastic smile, but didn't move from her spot, hindering Emily from walking further.

"Shall we?" The brunette said, showing the conference room.

"Why did I got lucky, by the way?"

Emily pursed her lips. "Because I almost called you to pick me up, and made a wrong number."

"Whom did you call?"

"Hotch."

JJ, who was now at the top of the stairs, turned to her friend and gave her a shocked look. This look meant that there would be tons of questions later on. But for now on, it was the others who would have questions for Emily, the brunette thought as she stepped into the conference room, greeted by three pairs of shocked eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

"Wheels up in two hours. Go get your bags and we'll meet at the airport." Hotch announced, reorganizing his stack of files on the conference table. He watched as all his agents, one by one, exited the room, to leave him alone with his thoughts. The briefing had gone well – that is, after Morgan and Reid were finished harassing Emily about her state. He was quite satisfied with himself: he had managed to focus and even remembered enough about the current case to fill the others in, despite his sleepless night. He didn't know why, but JJ was looking at him curiously during the whole briefing.

Hotch always had a go-bag in his office. However he had to get home to prepare Jack's things, as he would spend the next few days at his aunt – once again. As the unit chief got out of his office twenty minutes later, he noticed that only Emily was still at her desk, and over the phone. As he approached, he heard music displaying.

"Prentiss, hang up this phone." He said, looking at the taxi card in her hand. She turned around, sighing, but stayed on the line.

"Why?"

"You won't take a cab home. I'll drive you. It's on my way anyhow."

"Hotch, come on." She said, putting a hand on the speaker so that the person which had just picked up wouldn't hear. "I already asked enough favors of you for the next million years…"

Hotch shook his head and, after a moment of hesitation, put his finger on the receiver to finish the call.

"Hotch! What are you doing?"

He didn't blink away.

"I promise I'll never accept to do you any more favors after that…" He said, repressing a grin. Emily sighed and finally hanged up the phone, stretching her arm to take her bag.

"Fine."

As they walked together through the bullpen, Hotch's eyes travelled several times to his coworker, or more precisely, to her wrist, as she pushed open the door to the elevator area. He frowned as he recognized the shape of fingers, engraved so to speak into her skin.

"How is the head?"

"Fine." She answered so quickly that he immediately knew it was a lie.

"You can sit this one out, you know." Hotch said cautiously as they settled in the elevator. Luckily, there were two other agents, or Emily would probably have bitten his head off, he thought as he avoided her angry gaze.

"I'm just saying…"

"I'm fine, Hotch." She cut him, lowering her voice so that they would not attract the whole attention. Hotch looked at her a little longer than necessary.

"This seems to be your leitmotiv."

Emily cleared her throat and stayed silent for the rest of the ride. It was only when they had flashed their badges at the security guard and entered the parking lot that she opened her mouth again. She probably thought she should break the tension. He didn't deserve this after all he had done for her.

"I couldn't afford the cab anyway, not after hearing what the picking up and repairing of my car will cost me…"

Hotch chuckled. "So the motor was down indeed?"

"Oh, yeah! I didn't miss the tree…"

"Why didn't you tell the team about the accident, by the way?"

Emily had taken place in the passenger seat while Hotch was storing his bag in the trunk. She waited until he was seated next to her to answer.

"It's too much information. It was hard enough already to explain the state of my face…" Her voice trailed away, and Hotch paused to look at her.

"Emily, you don't have to be ashamed of what happened to you…"

"Yes, I have." She cut him again, thinking at the same time that this was becoming a bad habit. He still was a boss. As Hotch stared at her with questioning eyes, she sighed and brushed a hand over her face. "I shouldn't have trusted this guy. I'm a profiler, for God's sake."

Hotch didn't say anything for a minute, but made no move either to turn on his car, which made Emily nervous.

"I'm sorry." She finally said, breaking the silence. "Why does every conversation with you have to take this turn?"

"Because you need to get things out." He simply said, repressing the desire to squeeze her arm to reassure her.

"I need to get past this." Emily said just above a whisper. The tension in her tone told Hotch that there was still a lot she hadn't told him. And suddenly, the knot in his throat became bigger and uncomfortable, as he imagined what she was hiding.

Emily wiped away a tear and suddenly it was gone. This vulnerability, this fragility. She was the strong woman again.

"Uh, Hotch. If we don't get going now, we're going to miss the plane."

Hotch, who was still engrossed in his dark thoughts, nodded absently and turned the key.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Thank you for your many reviews, it's always nice to see people following my stories... By the way, I haven't received any suggestions for the next story I should write. I am looking for a prompt challenge for my next H/P story. Do not hesitate to PM or tell me in a review if you'd like me to write on a specific idea._**

"Garcia, did you get any further with investigating the life of our latest victim?"

The screen of the laptop suddenly filled with Garcia's face as she sat down in front of her webcam. Her voice echoed through the jet. She wished a good morning to the whole team. She hadn't been there at the briefing but had been filled in by JJ over the phone.

"Dear friends, I found… absolutely nothing, I'm sorry to say. Like our first two victims, Lindsay had a flawless life. No criminal record, neither in the family or boyfriends. She was studying international politics at Emory, had a part-time job besides as a waitress. She never filed in any claim, never had any fine…"

"Could you locate his boyfriend the night of her death?" Morgan cut in. He was the closest to the screen, facing Hotch on the other side. The rest of the team was either standing or sitting randomly in the plane.

"Ah, the boyfriend…" Nervous typing was heard through the computer as Garcia checked her research again. "Nope, my love. He is out of the picture. Was spotted by CCTV of a bar at ten thirty that night. And from that same camera, we know…" She paused to look at her screen again. "… that he went out of that bar – not alone, if I might add – at two o'clock."

JJ sighed. She had just come back from the kitchen area with two mugs of coffee in hand, and handed the second mug Rossi.

"So much for that… What about her work? The second victim too worked as a waitress…" The blonde said, taking a sip from her hot beverage.

"I can see what you're driving at," Garcia answered with a light tone, "but their paths never crossed. They worked at two different bars, in different areas of town."

Rossi and Morgan looked at each other. Each time they thought they had a lead, things didn't fit. It had been like this since the morning and their first overview of the profile. There seemed to be no common point whatsoever between Chloé, Eva and Lindsay, the three victims, except their age (between 24 and 30) and the way they died.

"Maybe we should concentrate on the profile again." Prentiss shot in, leaning back into her seat. "We profiled the unsub as a solitary man, between 25 and 45. He could very well be a client of the bars the girls were working in. Did the first victim had a side job too?"

Hotch looked at the brunette. He was astonished how quickly she could switch off her feelings and turn back into working mode. He himself had had many difficulties focusing completely on the case since they had had their latest conversation in his car. It had been followed by a long silence until they had reached Emily's apartment building. Emily obviously didn't want to talk anymore – or she thought that she might break down if she said one more word. Either way, when they had arrived, the brunette had literally jumped out of the car, muttering something about being quick. Hotch had used the fifteen minutes she had left him there to think about his conversation with Rossi. The man had managed to raise suspicions within Hotch. Had Emily told him everything?

"Hotch?" He snapped out of his daydreaming and looked Reid in the eye.

"What?"

"I said, have you had any chance reaching local police?" The younger agent looked at him strangely. "I thought maybe we should check whether other waitresses had filed in claims for assault or harassment."

Hotch nodded. "Garcia? Can you call local PD and check that? I think the one in charge is Detective Peterson." He recalled from the original files. When he raised his head, he met the curious gaze of Rossi, who had visibly witnessed the man's confusion. Hotch shot him an angry look and the elderly agent looked away.

"Ok Boss man" Garcia called out and finished the video-conference. The team settled back into its routine. They still had over two hours flight programmed, and would have to wait for Garcia's research results. So Reid changed seats with Hotch so they could play a little chess, and JJ sat down comfortably in her seat to start a new book. Rossi, who had seen Hotch – who was walking to the front of the plane – yawn for the third time in the last hour, came to stand by his seat and patted his shoulder.

"You should sleep a bit."

"Stop being so patronizing. We have a killer on the loose…"

"… once again," Rossi cut in. "It's no news, and we need a unit chief who is at his best when we land. So use the next hour to sleep."

Rossi was sent away by an angry Hotch, but seemed satisfied as he looked back and saw his friend finally close his eyes and lean back into his seat. He then went onto his next mission: find Emily, who had gone to the kitchenette to refill her mug of coffee.

"Can I have some, too?" he said, stretching his arm to fish another cup above the coffee machine.

Emily looked sideways and acknowledged his presence with a nod. She seemed even more tired than Hotch, thought Rossi as his eyes travelled from the bruise on her jaw to the one on her wrist. She had been careful to wear a long-sleeved blouse, but the bluish color came to light when she used her right hand to pour coffee in his cup.

"So, wanna tell me what really happened?"

Emily chuckled but there was no humor in her grin, rather irony.

"You're direct, at least, Rossi." She avoided his gaze and looked at her smoking coffee instead. "I told everyone this morning."

"Emily, I talked with Hotch. I know about the assault, I know about the car accident – which you forgot to mention…"

"I didn't want the team all over me when we have a case in our hands." She interrupted calmly.

"… Anyway. What I want to know is why you haven't told the whole truth to Hotch."

The brunette chocked on her beverage and turned around, trying to read Rossi's mind. He was probably the best profiler when it came to assessing his colleagues.


	9. Chapter 9

**Tension is rising ! Thank you for reviewing.**

"What do you mean?" Emily's eyes narrowed as Rossi looked at her calmly, without flinching. He noticed how her eyes travelled behind him, probably assessing whether the other team members were close enough to hear the exchange. They weren't.

"Emily, are you forgetting you are surrounded by profilers?"

Emily chuckled although she all but felt like laughing.

"And yet you are the only one who doesn't seem satisfied with my explanations." She met Rossi's cold gaze. She knew he wasn't angry, only worried at the brunette's attitude.

"You're wrong, miss Prentiss." He said with a warm tone and met Emily's questioning look. "There is at least another person going out of his mind here… And I don't mean you."

"I know." He didn't lower her gaze. He was talking about Hotch, it was obvious. She too had noticed how nervous the unit chief was, how he had been keeping silent all day except for work-related discussions. But what could she do about it?

"Tell him the truth." Rossi answered her silent question with the softest voice he had. Looking into his burning gaze, Emily would likely have fallen onto the ground, sobbing, if it wasn't for the bunch of profilers talking lively in the background. She didn't want to make a scene, especially not when they were on the field.

"What truth?" She tried again, sounding less and less confident.

"You tell me." Rossi must have seen by the way Emily remained silent and looked back and forth to the rest of the team, terrified they might hear anything suspicious, that she was about to break. So he decided to show all his cards and be direct.

"You have bruises all over. You flinch whenever someone comes near you – although it is so discreet that the others might not have noticed. You bite your nails, which you only do when you're under pressure. And I have never seen such a sadness in your eyes…" Rossi paused, looking at the tears pooling in his friend's eyes. "I'm just adding two and two together… You were raped."

He tried to remain confident and calm although saying this out loud was tearing him apart. Emily looked at her colleague dumbfounded during a long moment, glad everyone had already had their dose of caffeine. If anyone was to come into the kitchen area now, she would likely go for her phone and kill herself out of shame.

"Emily?" Rossi was visibly waiting for an answer which she couldn't bring off her tongue. She wiped away a tear and looked away.

"What do you want me to do?" Her voice was soar, her eyes red from unshed tears. Rossi made a step forward although he knew that making contact was the worst idea at the moment.

"You need to tell – at least him."

"No." It came out easily, much easily than the confession. A simple no, definitive, ferm.

"You need to get it out."

"Do you want me to say it aloud, is that it?" Emily's voice went higher as she tried to repress a wave of anger. She couldn't believe Rossi would corner her here of all places, in the jet, just inches away from her best friends, her colleagues, her family.

"I want you to press charge. I want you to give us _his_ name. I want to beat the crap out of this guy."

"It's not your business."

"Damn well it is our business!" Rossi realized only too late that he had yelled this last phrase. He closed his mouth as Emily kept staring at him, mouth gaping, as still as a statue. The voices outside the kitchen had stopped, but no one seemed to come their way.

"Damn you, Rossi…" Emily groaned as she brushed past him and went back into the main space. Of course, they were all staring at her. Even Hotch, seated the farthest, had stood up.

"Is everything alright?" Reid finally asked, looking incredulously at the brunette. Fortunately, she had wallowed down her tears – anger had its good side.

"Everything fine." She answered, looking from one colleague to the other, pausing on JJ's worried face and Hotch's unreadable expression, before taking a seat. Change the subject, forget this conversation. It was another five minutes before Rossi came out of his corner, as though nothing happened. But deep inside, Emily knew it wasn't over.


	10. Chapter 10

JJ came to sit with Emily, waiting for Hotch to have cleared everything in the lobby. There was a slight problem with the booking, apparently. Only two rooms left for six agents, and the four men really didn't see themselves sharing a normal sized bed between them all. JJ had insisted that Reid could sleep with the girls, but the young doctor had blushed so strongly that Hotch had felt complied to argue with the hotel director.

"So, what was that about earlier?" JJ asked casually, sitting down on the sofa beside Emily.

"Oh, nothing. You know Rossi, he's a little patronizing…"

"Yeah," the blonde chuckled, sipping at her bottle of water, "sometimes he really reminds me of my dad."

Emily eyed her unit chief as voices rose in the lobby. He was not having his way, apparently.

"And how is your face?" Emily decidedly changed the subject, eyeing her blonde friend and the massive bruise she had now too, on her forehead. They had begun their investigation in the most unpleasant manner, by meeting the latest victim's parents. And when JJ, during the interview, had asked them whether their daughter Lindsay had ever had an affair with or relationship with a customer of the bar, the grieving mother had responded drastically by slapping the agent. Lost and grieving parents can sometimes have the strangest reaction. This would have gone unnoticed – it wasn't the first time such a thing happened – if JJ had not been so surprised that she stepped back, tripped over a computer cable and fell right onto the side of the conference table.

"Sore. But I'm glad Hotch didn't handcuff me to a stretcher to bring me to the hospital…" JJ sighed deeply, raising a hand to touch the swollen area on her forehead. "It has been a crappy day." She added, now looking back at the hotel director who was now arguing with someone over the phone, shouting out orders.

"Yeah, this permanent tension kills me." Emily added.

"Now I just want to cuddle in bed with my two boys, watching _Bill the dinosaur_…" JJ sighed again, leaning back into the comfortable cushions of the hotel sofa. Emily chuckled.

"This won't be until another couple of nights, I'm afraid… And what's _Bill the dinosaur_ anyway?"

JJ laughed out loud, a little sarcastically.

"Oh, when you have children you'll _know_! I can't stand the stupid music anymore…"

The two women fell into silence as Reid sat down next to them.

"How is it going on back there?" Emily asked the doctor, who just rubbed his eyes. It was awfully late and they were all tired from the journey and investigation. Maybe they just should share the room before they spent the night in the lobby.

"Morgan is so exhausted that he is about to take his gun out if Mister Procedure back there doesn't hand him the keys soon." The doctor smirked, looking at the two women with narrowed eyes. "You know you two look like you engaged in a hen fight?"

"Ha ha…" JJ and Emily simultaneously answered with the same sarcastic tone.

"Okay, okay. I'll leave you two alone. Hotch will need another pair of hands if he has to restrain Morgan…" With that, he strolled away calmly towards the lobby, where keys were finally being jerked in the air – but not yet handed the tired agents.

"You should come over some time, you know." JJ's voice had changed back to her soft, normal tone. "Henry often asks about you."

"He's an adorable little boy…" Emily's eyes were lost in the vague as she said that.

"He likes you quite a lot. You and his crazy uncle Reid who feeds him with crazy stories about dinosaurs and evolution…. I think it was him who first made him discover _Bill_."

Emily smiled to herself. JJ stopped and looked at her intently, trying to read the brunette's eyes.

"Maybe you should quit your current lifestyle some time and start thinking about having one too?"

Emily's made big eyes to her friend and smirked.

"A dinosaur?"

"A child, miss Prentiss!" JJ almost shouted, realizing too late she had spoken loudly and looking over her shoulder to see whether the men had shifted their attention. When she saw they had not, she continued with a low voice. "You would make a great mom, Penelope and I have told you that for a long time now…"

Emily smiled sadly and looked down at her hands.

"Stop saying that. You just said yourself that my 'lifestyle' is not one for a child currently…"

JJ sighed and stood up. Now she was ready to go to bed, and bite off the head of the hotel director if he would not let them in within the next five minutes.

"Well maybe you should think about why you do it?"

"You're very elliptic tonight, Miss Jareau." Emily replied with a questioning gaze.

"You perfectly know what I mean." Suddenly, JJ was all serious. "Why are you doing this to yourself, hooking up with complete strangers? I thought you were lone…" JJ stopped mid-sentence, realizing that she had just said something very intrusive and indelicate. Emily looked at her without blinking, without any anger in her eyes. Again, she forgot far too often that she was working with profilers. "I'm sorry, it didn't come out well." She sat back down and put a hand on Emily's knee.

"You talk about patronizing… But you sound just like Rossi right now." Emily's gaze shifted somewhere behind her colleague, who understood that the booking conflict was about to come to an end.

"I'm just worried about you."

"Don't be, JJ" Emily said, a little upset, "I'm fine. I've been very lonely during my whole time in Paris, that's true. And now I just want to chill out!"

JJ eyed her suspiciously.

"If you say so…"

They were interrupted by their male team members, who were proudly exhibiting the keys they had finally collected. Now they could go to sleep and forget about all this. About this day which had begun and ended on arguments and tension.


End file.
